Adjusted
by Magali1
Summary: Inspired by the "Friday Night at the Luncheonette" Parenthood webisode with Landry and Billy. Trilogy with POVs by Tim, Landry, and Lyla.
1. The Well-Adjusted One

**A/N:**Seeking Shelter is not gone, I'm still working on it. The Matt/Julie parts are difficult for me because I don't write them very well so it will take some time. This fic is a short one, kind of a one-scene only fic that was inspired a bit by the "Friday Night at the Luncheonette" FNL/Parenthood crossover websiode. I'd say you'd need to watch that (it's about 20 minutes long) before reading this or at least, understanding it. It references a couple Parenthood couples, but is not a full crossover to that show. Anyway, there will probably be a couple after this, one with Landry for sure. Enjoy :)

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What the hell kind of place is this, Tim wondered. He let the door close in a dive-type bar behind him, searching through the rather large crowd for the woman who'd called him. He walked over to the bar, leaning against it. "Hey," he called. "You serve a woman? Alone? Probably going a bit crazy?"

The bartender shrugged. "Been a lot like that. She got a name?"

"Yeah, it's…" he trailed off, not thinking of the name when he spotted her through a gap in the crowd. He knocked his knuckles on the scuffed oak. "Nevermind, thanks." He slipped around some people and came to stand beside the high-top table in the corner where she was seated, a scattering of shot glasses and a couple of tall glasses on the small circular table. "Hey there."

She looked up, her eyes bloodshot and watery. They were red and swollen. "Hey," she sniffed. She gestured to the empty stool beside her. "Have a seat. You want a drink? There's plenty to drink."

"I don't know, you seem to have had the whole bar." He took a seat beside her, lifting his eyebrows and smiling, his eyes widening dramatically. "So what am I doing here? You called me, remember?" And there was a distinct possibility that no, she didn't remember.

She hiccupped, a smile pulling on her lips as she swung a shot glass around in her fingertips. "I did something really, really stupid," she laughed. She finished the shot, slamming it down onto the table and then picked up the empty again. "More please."

He leaned back a little and snagged a waitress. "Hey, can I get whatever's on tap, um, two shots, and…" he glanced at her, where she was lifting up a large empty glass, ice rattling around with a lime. Looked like it used to contain vodka. "And a very, very tall glass of…"

"Vodka!" she shouted.

He flashed a smile at the waitress, who only glanced at the crazy lady sitting beside him. "Water."

"You got it sweets."

"Thanks." He moved some of the glasses out of the way so he could lean his elbows on the table, folding his arms. He waited, but she said nothing, her eyes fixated on a hockey game playing on the television screen. Oh how he hated the offseason. He reached his hand over, waving it in front of her eyes, which had gone a bit glazed. "Hey."

She snapped up a little, smiling wide at him again. "Hey!" She patted his arm. "How are you? You doing good? Billy says you're doing good."

He frowned slightly. "You talk to Billy?"

"Oh I called the bar and…he answered the phone…" She took the glass that the waitress set in front of her, taking a long sip and frowning, her nose wrinkling up. "This isn't vodka."

"Because it's water," he said, pushing a shot to her. He lifted his up and waited for her to do the same before smiling slightly. She just looked straight at him, waiting. He lifted his shoulder. "So what are we toasting?"

"Toasting?"

"Well you always gotta' toast and you're drinking enough for me, so we gotta' toast to at least something to get me started catching up with you," he drawled. He frowned a little. "How about…to random calls from friends?"

She frowned deeper, turning her shot glass around a little more. "Yeah….friends. Sure. That's what we are." She didn't bother clinking her glass to his before she downed it, setting it down with a light thud on the table. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, staring down at the empty glass.

Uh-oh, he thought, doing his shot and putting the glass down. He picked up his glass of beer, sipping for a moment, his eyes still focused entirely on her. What are you thinking, he wondered, cocking his head slightly. "What's in your mind right now?" he asked. If you'll tell me. It's been awhile. About three years, he figured.

"I dropped out of college," she murmured.

He didn't register much shock, probably because he already knew. He'd heard about it through the family, like he did most news. "Hmm," he commented. He wanted to hear it from her though. Why she would do a stupid thing like that. It was fine for him to do it; he didn't have plans for that sort of thing in his life. It was just kind of nice to say that he at least got in and that's all he was after.

She looked sideways; a chunk of her hair fell into her eyes and she idly blew it out of her face. It was blonde. A honey blonde. His nose wrinkled in distaste; he preferred her with dark hair. It brought out her eyes. "I don't know what I was thinking, but I blew it off. The scholarship I got…" she trailed off, lifting her glass of water and taking a sip. She swallowed, her throat visibly constricting. Her voice softened and she seemed to be speaking to herself more than him. "All my plans. Go to college. Make something of myself. Leave Dillon forever and never look back." She looked over at him, smiling darkly. "All gone."

It's not all gone. "Maybe college just wasn't right for you," he said, but even he didn't believe that. Thankfully, she didn't either, and snorted her disagreement with that statement. He smiled around the rim of his beer glass. "Yeah, even I didn't believe that."

"I was going to go," she said. She jabbed her finger into the table. "I proved it. I got to go to the best college. The one I wanted. I got good grades and I…and I did internships and I got a job and I had roommates and holy hell I joined a sorority! Me!"

Yeah, it was a little weird, he thought. Those all girl groups. Strange. "Sure," he said.

"I was doing everything that people asked of me and then some and then, I just…" she waved her hand, looking away and letting it fall to the table, her rings clinking angrily on the table. She tapped them and then looked up again, scowling. "Why are you here? I called you?"

"You're still drunk, but I imagine that yes, you called me during a bad moment."

"I can't believe I called you. I haven't talked to you in forever."

Well you know, that's what happens sometimes, he thought. He smiled slightly, shrugging. "You know you're not the only one who dropped out. Ran into Landry Clarke the other day at Buddy's. He dropped out too. One semester left and just…" he waved his hand now, symbolizing running away. He thought that was insane. Landry Clarke, leaving college behind and taking up music fulltime. "Last I heard he was in Berkeley with Billy."

"What's Billy doing in Berkeley?"

"Mindy kicked him out, I'm surprised you don't know this."

"I don't keep up on all news from Dillon," she mumbled. She frowned deeper, her eyes squinting up at him as she hung her head slightly. "Wow. Landry Clarke? Really? Music?"

"Crucifictorious rides again."

"Wow."

Hell, do what makes you happy. He'd spoken at length with Landry, who had gotten shitfaced drunk that night, and he'd ended up having to drive him home, listening to him go on and on about how he just couldn't live a life he didn't want, that he didn't like. He wanted to do something he wanted, not because it was expected. Went on and on about Matt Saracen and Julie Taylor getting married and they were all happy. They were doing what they wanted in life. Why couldn't he?

Yes, why couldn't he, Tim had replied. He hated that his life had ended up the way it had, but he'd tried to build it back up again. It was still a work in progress, but it was his work in progress and he wasn't letting anyone define him in the process. Or at least, that's what Mrs. Taylor said when she'd visited a few months ago and talked to him. Shrunk my head, more like, he thought darkly. They were even sitting in his living room and he ended up lying on the couch because he was getting a headache while she talked to him. Ugh.

He returned his attention to her. "So you know, if Landry can do it, why can't you?"

"Yes, why can't I?" she wondered. She tapped her fingertips on the side of the glass, turning his direction. She quirked her lip up. "Because I'm me. That's why."

"You are you, so what? If you want to quit, you'll quit." You'll be right back there in a week, I know it. He ran his tongue over his teeth, his voice soft. "Landry quit because he really didn't want to do it and he's doing what he wants. What do you want?"

She looked at the dance floor, where several people were awkwardly dancing to a warbly old country song from the speakers. This place was a dive, he thought. Definitely his type of place and definitely not her type of place. She tapped her ring on the table again, finally turning to peer at him. She smiled again, closing her eyes and holding her head in her hands. "I want to do soemthign without thinking it's because someone else wants it of me," she mumbled.

You are silly drunk and still you come up with an answer like that, Tim thought, blowing out a hard breath. He shrugged, his voice quiet. "When's the last you can go back to school?"

"Yesterday."

Well try next semester or something. "Until then, do what you want to do. Decide later. Maybe you won't want to go back."

"Easyf or you to say, you know what you want to do." She smirked, dropping her glass to the table and leaning forward. Damn, your breath, he thought, blinking quickly for a second. "Tim Riggins and his little slice of Texas. Texas Forever, right?" The way she said it made him flinch, like it was something to be pitied. But he didn't. It was his life. It was what he wanted. A very simple life and he had it.

He couldn't help the snap in his voice. "I worked for that life. I went through hell." He dropped his voice, looking away, saying something he had never really thought much of, but now he thought nonstop. "I deserve it."

They were quiet, until she clinked her ring on the table again. "You do deserve it."

Good. At least we agree on that. He stood up, reaching into his back pocket and removing some cash, setting it down on the table to cover the drinks she'd been pouring down her throat for the last few hours. "Let's go. You drive yourself here?"

"I walked. My apartment isn't too far away." She leaned on his shoulder, looking up at him and blinking a few times. "What are you doing here?" she murmured.

"Told you, I heard what happened. Plus, you called me." Which I have yet to figure out why. He helped her to her feet, almost dragging her from the bar. He finally tried to lift her up, but she was mostly dead weight. Damn. He half-carried her to his truck, setting her into the front seat and hurrying around to the side. He climbed in and glanced at her. "So where do you live?"

"Around the corner. White house. Top floor."

So they drove around the corner and he found a white row house amongst a series of little bungalows and houses, all of them cut up into apartments and duplexes. He helped her upstairs, glancing at the buttons on the side of the entryway, seeing that she was in 3A, the top floor. Only one on the top floor. He pulled her keys out of her purse while she leaned on him, her eyes closed. Not passed out, because he breathing hadn't changed. He opened up the door and dragged her up three flights of stairs and into her apartment.

He left her on the floor, while she tried to compose herself, and went into the kitchen to get coffee going. "Here you go champ," he drawled, passing her some aspirin he found in the cupboard and a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Why?"

"Because you're going to have a bitch of a hangover." He helped her up to the couch, setting her down and pulling her shoes and coat off. "And the coffee should be done. You still drink it with milk and three sugars?"

"Yup." She smirked at him. "You still drink it black as night?"

"Black as my sinful soul," he said, repeating something she'd once told him. He poured two cups and carried them over to the coffee table. He leaned back into a poufy chair, watching her as she sipped her coffee. She made a face and he grinned. "I snuck some extra stuff in there."

"Tastes like tabasco."

"Hair of the dog."

She made another face and leaned back, closing her eyes and reaching to touch her forehead. "I'm a mess," she mumbled. She let her hand fall, looking straight at him. "I can't believe you actually came here. It's miles away."

"Yeah, well…" He shrugged. "You needed me."

"I shouldn't. We've been broken up for years."

How many had it been? Guess that would depend on what one meant by 'broken up.' However the cool kids were describing it these days, he thought. He sipped his coffee, choosing to remain silent on the matter. You needed me, that's what mattered, so he came. He looked over at her, whispering. "It's okay. It's not like it's going to end the way it did last time we saw each other."

She smiled slightly, nodding. She lifted her coffee mug to her lips, but lowered it and set it down on the table. "And if it does?" she asked, glancing at him. Her eyes lingered on his for far longer than he thought was necessary. She cocked her head, smirking again. "It's not like we haven't done it before." She grinned slyly. "In a variety of ways."

He finished his coffee, swallowed, and set it on the table beside hers, leaning over his knees. "Well you know the one time as Morticia and Gomez was a little weird," he said, smiling.

"It was Halloween and we'd just come from the football costume party."

"Better than the other costume you had planned of Superman and Wonder Woman. I was not going to wear tights."

"But you looked so dashing in that little moustache," she said, smiling. She reached to touch her forehead, making a face and cringing. "Ah! I really did have a lot."

You may still not remember this conversation, Tim thought, and leaning back again into the chair. He propped his foot up on the coffee table and crossed his arms over his chest. "So…you dropped out."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Fine, we won't talk about it anymore. He reached into his pocket and removed his phone, drawing up some photos and turend it towards her. "My nephews."

"Aw. They're cute. They look like Billy." She smiled slightly, turning the phone to him again. "Where is Billy?"

"I told you. He's running around California with Landry. They hooked up with some friend of Becky's in Berkeley. Recording and partying and doing whatever." I wouldn't mind being there for a few, but…life, he thought, sighing. Life as an adult was boring. He slouched down in the chair, voicing that thought. "Life's boring when you follow the law and pay bills and shit."

"Welcome to the real world." She shook her hand through her hair, whispering. "I cannot believe you're here. You drove all that way and everything."

"It wasn't far. You called me a few days ago and…and then you called mea gain and I just happened to be around." He swallowed hard. It was no big deal. Getting in the car and driving to Tennessee from Texas. He frowned a little. "Why did you call me?"

"Hmm?"

"It's been years," he whispered. We didn't make an official agreement not to talk, but it was there. Their families respected it. Didn't share anything. It just was…the way it was. They stayed away when she happened to be in town. "So why now?"

She shrugged, slumping into the couch and covering her stomach with her arms. "I don't know," she grumbled, closing her eyes and reaching to hold her hand over her eyes. She didn't shake her head; it was probably aching. "I don't know I just…I just didn't know what I was doing and so I called you." She dropped her hand and turned her head slightly. "When I'm losing my mind it's always you."

Well doesn't that just say all, he thought. He got up and took their mugs into the kitchen. When he returned, she was asleep. Her mouth was slightly ajar and she was drooling. "Sexy," he commented. Alright, here we go, he thought, lifting her up as best he could. He carted her to her bedroom and dropped her on the unmade bed. The place was a mess. It was so unlike her.

She blinked a few times, peering up at him. "What're you doing?" she slurred.

"Bringing you to bed."

"Hmm," she mumbled, smiling. She sighed. "Been awhile." She turned slightly and stared up at him, blinking a few more times. Focusing him. "You're really here…and I'm really not." She sighed again, looking at the ceiling. "I dropped out of school. I don't know what I'm going to do."

I know what you're going to do. He sat down on the edge of the bed, covering her hand with his. "You're going to sleep," he said. Take it step by step. The way I did. "And you're going to wake up and since you can't go back to school just yet, you're going to take the semester and you're going to think of what you want. At the end, you're going to go back to school because it's what you need, but right now? Right now you just need to breathe. Pull a Landry. Go to California."

"My mom lives in Berkeley, I really could," she said. She looked up at him again, frowning slightly. "I know someone in Berkeley, actually. A couple. They have a kid with Aspbergers and I…" she yawned. "I met them at this thing. This…this family thing when I was out there visiting my mom. I stay in touch sometimes. I could do that. Go work for them or something."

"Doing what?"

"I don't know, like an aide or something, they had one but she left." She looked over at him, shrugging. "I don't know what I want to do. Even now. I dropped out because I didn't know what I wanted to do. Business or…or teaching or being a doctor or something."

You just need time to figure some stuff out. Once you got to college and out of Dillon…and unlike most people you're not going to waste your time paying money and studying and getting a degree in something you don't want. He reached over and lightly touched her hair. "You dyed your hair," he murmured.

"Do you like it?"

"No."

"Blunt."

"Truthful."

She smiled, reaching to pluck at the strands. "I wanted to be different. See if I felt different. I got a tattoo."

"You're lying." I can believe the blonde hair and maybe chopping it all off, but definitely not a tattoo…holy shit. His eyes widened as she lowered the waistband of her skirt, revealing a tattoo nestled in the curve of her pelvis. "Oh my God!" He leaned forward, his hands going to her skin, not thinking as he stared at her hipbone. "What is that supposed to be?"

"It's Hebrew." She dropped her head to the pillow, letting her hands fall to her sides. She sighed again, closing her eyes. "I says…" she trailed off, mumbling. "No regrets."

No regrets. Words to live by, he thought. He dropped his hand off of her hip, folding his fingers into his palm and resting it beside her head. She was fast asleep again. He stood up and left the room, after covering her with a light blanket and turning her head slightly so she wouldn't choke on her tongue. He picked up her phone, so he wouldn't waste his minutes, and called someone he thought might be able to help. "Hey Becks."

"Where the hell are you?"

"Nashville."

"Why are you in Nashville? What about work?"

"I took a couple days, they said it was cool. Hey, so you know where Landry is?"

"He's still in Berkeley, why?"

"Just thought he might be able to help out someone who is…" he shrugged. "Going through something like he was. Remember when he quit college?"

"And followed his music to California? Worst decision, ever."

"I bet he won't say so." He spoke with her a few minutes more, getting the scoop on how Mindy now wanted Billy back, she was sorry to kick him out, but Becky went off on how it was still Billy's fault, for leaving Texas in the first place. Flake, Tim thought. That's what he was. He finally disconnected after he got Landry's number and plugged it into his phone. He'd call him later, get him in touch with Garrity. He sighed, walking around the apartment.

Not snooping, just investigating, he thought it might be. Trying to figure out her life the last four years. Figure out why she didn't know what she wanted in life and how she had to leave college. He stopped in front of a bookcase, filled with pictures, books, and other knickknacks. She traveled a lot, he noted. He smiled, seeing her with all kinds of kids, all over the place. He could also tell that the kids were not…well normal wasn't the right word because no one was normal.

He ran his fingers over the spines of the books stacked neatly together, smiling a little wider. Autism. Aspberger's. Learning Disabilities. Special education, he thought, glancing at the door. Ironic. Given what his job was nowadays. He walked back to the bedroom, leaning on the door. She was awake again. She'd be in and out for most of the night, she was never a very good drunk. "You do special education?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Church group thing, but yeah."

Church, yeah. "Maybe you should be a minister," he teased. He cocked his head slightly. "You know what I do now?" She leaned back on her elbows, shaking her head in the negative. He quirked his lip up. "I coach kids."

"That sounds nice."

"Not the Panthers." Or Pee Wee. Or Pop Warner. He smiled a little wider. "Kids with…things that would make them not be on a regular football team."

She frowned, her hair sticking up all around her head like a crown. "Special education? Like…like kids…"

"Autism mostly. Some Down's. Couple on wheels." Jason got him into it as a volunteer thing when his probation officer suggested that community service might help him get it knocked down to six months instead of a year. Before he knew it, he was at Dillon Tech taking a couple of classes with Becky and then getting some license so he could coach them. He instantly flushed. "Not a full time thing." He rolled his eyes. "They can be so annoying."

She smiled. "I think it's nice. Good for you." She leaned back again and pulled a blanket up over her shoulders, moaning. "I'm tired."

Go to sleep. He turned around, feeling a little warm at her statement. Good for you. She was proud of him. He smiled, walking back into her living room and stretching out on the couch, reaching for the television remote to pass the time until he got tired and fell asleep.

The next day, he was standing outside her apartment, leaning against the bed of his truck. Time to say goodbye. "Next time you get shitfaced, call one of your friends," he teased. He frowned a little, dramatic. "Diesel is so expensive these days."

Lyla tossed her hair out of her eyes, her arms crossed over her chest. "I'll do that," she replied, in an equally teasing tone. Her smile fell slightly and her brow wrinkled, concerned. "Thank you though. I just…I don't know why I needed to see you and…and you actually came, I mean…" She sighed, reaching her arms to wrap around his shoulders. "You're such a good person."

Thanks. He felt his cheeks warm a little. Spreading through his entire body as he hugged her tighter. "You got Landry's number?" he asked, mumbling into her shoulder. We gotta' make this go faster, I can't be here any longer. I'll start saying things I shouldn't say.

She nodded quickly. "Yeah. I think I'm going to go to Berkeley. Be with my mom for a few weeks. Then maybe take some classes…" her cheeks turned pinked. "I just…been thinking and…" She sighed, looking back up at him and whispering. "I want to make a difference. Be big. But I don't like business unless it's helping my dad a bit and…and I don't want to go to school for another ten years to be a doctor and I just…" She set her jaw, meeting his eyes again.

I know what you're going to do, he thought suddenly. The photos of her. The things in her apartment. The Bible he knew she kept in her beside table. He smiled wider. "I think you'd be great."

"Really?"

"Sister Lyla."

She chuckled, shaking her head and lifted her eyebrow. "Not that. That's Catholic. I'm not."

"Reverend Lyla." I think you'd be good. He tugged her a littile closer, his lips brushing against hers. "You can still kiss people goodbye, right?"

"I think I can," she mumbled, pressing her lips a little harder to his. A moment later, they pulled away from the sad, sweet kiss. She pushed his hair from his eyes and hugged him again, brushing her lips against his ear. "Thank you again."

"Anytime." He let go and climbed up into his truck, shoving his sunglasses on and looked her away again. She waved. He waved back, turning the engine over. They wouldn't say anything. That wasn't them. He drove away from her curb, only looking up into the rearview mirror right before he was set to turn. She was still standing there, watching him. Damn, he thought, shaking his head.

About halfway to Texas he got a phone call. Landry. "Get your brother away from me!" he shouted.

"Sorry no can do Lando, he's his own person."

"He's driving me crazy and he almost destroyed a recording studio. Becky's friend was so mad." Then his voice got kind of giddy. "But she's really cool. Her name is Amber." Then his voice got kind of annoyed. "She said to say hi. Seems to know you. Like every other woman in America."

Tim let Landry go off for a few more minutes on his brother and some person named Amber who he could not possibly remember because to his recollection there had been a few named Amber and that probably wasn't even their real name. "Hey," he finally said, interrupting. "There's only one woman, Landry. Don't worry about Amber."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"It's not…you know who, is it?"

HE rolled his eyes. "She's my sister-in-law, Landry! No, it's not you-know-who. Anyway, she's going to call you. Dropped out of Vanderbilt for a semester. Kind of needs to blow off steam and figure herself out. Figured you'd understand that. She's going to be in Berkeley, how long you going to be there?"

"A few more days."

"Fine." He waited a moment and then frowned slightly, asking a question he'd been wondering the answer to, since he knew the answer when applied to him, but…still. "Is it worth it?" he wondered. "Doing what you guys did, dropping out and stuff?"

Landry paused. A few moments passed and he sighed. "Yeah. Doing what you love, even if it isn't what you thought…sometimes it doesn't seem it and then it does."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Tell her when she calls." He said goodbye and hung up. He smiled slightly. It was nice being the one who had their shit together for once. He looked down at his phone as it rang again. It was her. "Yeah?" he answered, holding it up to his ear. "What's up?"

"Do you mind if I crash at your place in a few weeks?"

"Ah…I guess."

"I won't be long. I just need to think about what you said. It'll be after Berkeley."

"Sure."

They sat in awkward silence for a few more minutes and she finally chuckled. "We'll get better at this."

"At what?"

"Being friends."

Yeah, he hoped so, he thought, hanging up. He shook his head slightly, looking out at the highway as it took him south to Texas. Who would have thought, he wondered, thinking of Landry and now of Lyla. To a lesser extent, even Tyra was kind of going bonkers since she realized she had to put in her papers to graduate and didn't have a job yet. Billy was in California because Mindy was going berserk with three kids.

I'm the well-adjusted one, he thought, laughing. And that was crazy. He laughed again, louder, and hit his head against the headrest behind him, grinning almost clear to the Texas border. Things were definitely looking up.

THE END


	2. What You Want

**A/N:**I apologize for how long it is taking me to return to "Seeking Shelter." I've been super busy and just haven't had time to truly focus on it. And when I do have time, I don't really want to write serious stuff, which is why this fic has an update and that one is going on like two weeks without one. Anyways, enjoy. There will probably be one more chapter to this fic, like a trilogy rounding everything out. Enjoy :)

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"Billy you need to go home."

"And so do you."

I'm just hanging out in Berkeley. I don't feel like going anywhere, Landry thought, nursing his second beer of the night. He'd developed his tolerance to alcohol at college and yet it still was nowhere near the tolerance level of a Riggins. Billy was probably on case number two. "I'm not going home," he said.

"Well I'm not going home without you."

"How very brotherly love of you guys," Devin said, twirling her stir stick around in her drink. She nudged him with her elbow. "Hey, is that woman looking at you or me?"

"Probably you."

"She looks familiar."

Landry wasn't interested; he probably should be, but since he'd left college he'd actually had more girlfriends. It was a thing if you said you were an out of work musician who gave up a promising future for your dreams. I should have started that line ages ago, he thought, taking another sip of his beer. He glanced over at the woman Devin was talking about, his eyes widening slightly. "Oh my Gosh. I know her."

Devin scowled. "Not fair, it's been forever for both of us. You got that Amber girl to go out with you."

"No, we just kissed." And then he'd been texting back and forth. Amber was a friend. It was the least he could do, since she almost lost her job and they almost destroyed her recording studio. He lifted his hand, waving slightly at the woman. He glanced at Devin and then beyond her to Billy, who was head-slamming to some song the band was playing in the Berkeley college bar. "God, he's so pathetic. You're on Billy duty tonight."

Devin made a face. "Can't he just go back home? Aren't you friends with Mindy?"

"No."

"What about Tyra, her sister, can't you call her and get her to take Billy?"

No, he thought. He didn't talk to her anymore. She'd decided to trash their relationship and when she'd wanted to be friends, he'd said thanks but no thanks, he wasn't interested in making her feel better. Seemed he wasn't the only one, if some of the stuff Billy had let slip about how she'd left things with Tim again were true. Tyra Collette has a penchant for taking and then just expecting, he thought with a scowl. Served her right when she was the one left hanging. He didn't answer Devin, but slid off the stool at the table, grinning when the woman approached them. "Hey Lyla."

Lyla Garrity smiled warmly at him. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Well you never called." Tim said that she'd call him, but she never did. That was a few weeks ago. "I didn't know you were in Berkeley."

"And I figured you'd have left, Tim said something about Crucifictorious getting back together?" Lyla sat at one of the empty stools at their table, setting her drink down on a napkin. She smiled at Devin and offered her hand. "I'm sorry, I don't remember you, I'm Lyla."

"Devin," Devin said with a quick grin in his direction. He rolled his eyes; it wasn't like that. She hopped off her stool and took her drink. "I'm going to save Billy from another drunken mistake like when we were in Seattle."

"Billy's whole life is a drunken mistake."

Lyla snorted slightly, lifting her glass to her lips. She waved at Billy, who stopped dancing and scowled at her. She made a face at him and he made a face back. She smiled at Landry. "We've never warmed to each other."

"Well it's hard, I mean he does have the mind of a preschooler."

"Doesn't he have children at home? Tim said that he just up and left when it got hard."

"Mindy kicked him out and it sounds like Tim kicked him out too." He sighed hard. "We were in Austin and he just showed up at this bar where we were playing. He followed us out to Seattle and then to Portland and now Berkeley." He sighed again, glancing at Billy as Devin tried to get him to stop drinking. "He'll get bored eventually, when Mindy takes him back, but he's here with us for now." He took a sip of his beer, smiling quickly at her. "Tim said you had a crisis like me."

"Something like that," Lyla said, twirling her straw around. She rattled the ice and the lemon slices in whatever she was drinking, a slim dark eyebrow lifting on her forehead. "My mom lives in Berkeley, so here I am. I got a job. Working with this autistic kid, his name is Max." She smiled quickly. "Apparently I look like his former aide. Apparently she slept with his uncle, left unexpectedly, it was all very weird and kind of embarrassing, but I assured his family that that won't happen with me." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "And I'm waiting to hear back from a local seminary."

"Seminary?" he exclaimed.

Lyla smirked. "I don't know, it's just something that I thought I might like better than getting a business degree and turning Buddy's Bar and Grill into a national chain. Which is what my dad would have me do."

I've been there. He smiled a little himself. "My dad wanted me to just be happy and I thought that was engineering, but…nope. Just biding my time until I figure it out." We're young. We're free. Let's just do what we want before real life has to actually set in. He leaned on his elbow. "So you and Tim, huh?"

I have no idea what to talk about with someone I barely know and haven't seen since high school, but let's start there, Landry thought. Lyla's cheeks flushed slightly. "Yeah, well, he's a friend." She patted his hand. "So how are you and Tyra, are you guys…" The look he must have given her had her instantly recoiling. "Ouch, I'm sorry. I guess it's been a long time."

"Yeah, well, we're not in high school anymore. Things change."

"Yeah, definitely." Lyla bit her lower lip and tucked her hair behind her ear again. She frowned slightly. "I think it's a bit weird that we're all kind of still in touch, you know?"

"Only because I ran into Tim and he's never leaving Dillon and he tends to be the lightning rod for most information about people," Landry said. Tim hung out at the bar and he heard things. Knew just about everyone too. He smiled a little at her. "And sorry Lyla, but I don't think Riggins is going to leave you alone."

"Oh he will," Lyla said. She chuckled when he frowned. "Tim and I are friends, Landry. He just happened to suggest I talk to you. I just…" she sighed hard, frowning deeply. Her voice faltered slightly. "Happened to call him when I needed someone. Guess he's kind of like that."

Guess he kind of was, but Landry wouldn't know. Only thing he had in common with Tim Riggins was a mutual distaste for Tyra Collette's relationship skills. And their ability to stop Billy Riggins from making terrible mistakes, although lately he'd been letting that skill deteriorate. "So you're here in Berkeley," he said.

"I'm here in Berkeley."

They drank in silence for a second and he tapped his finger to the table. "You know there's this girl, Amber Holt? Her family owns a recording studio, you should talk to her. She knows Becky."

"Tim's girlfriend?"

He frowned. "Not unless something new happened there. More like his conscience."

"Oh well, I just kind of assumed," Lyla said, shrugging. She twirled her straw around, frowning slightly. "So how long are you going to be here? Before you return to Dillon, that is."

Hell if I know. I'm still wandering. He didn't answer, finishing his beer. He held up the bottle as a waitress passed. "Can I get another please? Thanks." He shrugged at her. "I don't know. Might go to Chicago. Matt and Julie got married."

"I didn't know that." She smiled a little, glancing down at her hands. Some rings on her fingers sparkled a little in the neon lights from beer signs over the bar. Her voice softened. "Guess high school love lasted in that case."

Guess it did. He snorted slightly. "Well you know Lyla, you and I happened to have high school significant others that were better suited for themselves than for us." He wasn't bitter about it. He'd long since moved on after Tyra. Seemed Lyla had as well, but it was a bit of a sore subject when you could see how well it worked out for people like Matt and Julie.

Lyla shrugged. "I don't know. Tim and I…" she trailed off again, sighing. "I don't know."

Landry took the new beer bottle from the waitress, smiling at her. He took the napkin she passed and glanced at it, grinning at her number. "Thanks Annabeth," he drawled.

"You're from Texas, aren't you?" she asked. She was cute, with short red hair and freckles. She smiled wide, her teeth straight and shiny. "I recognize the accent. I'm a sucker for Texans. Call me, I get off shift at one." She wiggled her fingers at him and walked away.

He smiled, tucking the napkin into his pocket. He glanced at Lyla, who was grinning. "What?" he laughed.

"Nothing," she laughed. "She's cute. You should call her."

"I don't like girls that are too forward."

"She must like the cardigan."

"It is a lady catcher." He dropped his bottle of beer back on the table. Lyla still seemed out of sorts. He shrugged slightly again. "So you and Tim. Guess that was something that could last, huh? Since you called him and all."

Lyla seemed uncomfortable, but he didn't really care. She brought it up. She shrugged again, her voice faraway when she spoke. "I just…" She shrugged again and finished her drink, swallowing hard, and her throat constricting. "I don't know. We'll see. I'll see him in a few weeks when I go back to Texas. Just need to figure some things."

"Take it from someone who has been figuring things, it doesn't take a few weeks." It had been months for him and he still was clueless. His talk with Amber had kind of lightened some things up. Continued talks with her were also lighting some more up. Amber was good at giving advice. He hoped she'd take some of her own advice, she seemed to be going through her own identity crisis.

Billy wandered over to their table, changing the mood. "You done breaking my brother's heart Garrity? You're here to break Landry's too?" He slung his arm over his shoulders, jabbing his finger into his upper arm. "Don't touch my Landry."

"How about you don't touch me Billy?" Landry said, trying to pry Billy's drunk grasp off of him.

Lyla smirked at Billy. "Sorry Mindy kicked you out."

"Shut up. You always sided with her."

"Not necessarily, she hates me."

"You know who hates you more? Tyra. But it's okay, because Tim hates her right now too." He laughed at Landry's eyeroll. "My sister-in-law is good at dropping the guys when she's done using them, right Landry?"

"Billy you should probably shut up now."

"I agree," Lyla said, reaching into her purse. She threw down some cash and stood up. "Landry, I'll help you."

He really wanted to at least talk to Annabeth, but he guessed he'd call her and apologize for not waiting to the end of her shift. He waved at Devin and pointed to Billy. She nodded and went back to flirting with a couple of women in the corner. Lucky her, he thought, hefting Billy's arm around his shoulder while Lyla took the other side. "Come on Billy, let's get you to the van."

"I called Mindy and she still won't let me come back!" he whined. He looked over at Lyla, squinting. "Hey…Lyla! It's you!"

"It's me."

"You talk to Timmy? Tell him I'm sorry I broke his porch. He just didn't build it strong enough."

"You broke his porch?" Lyla asked.

"Playing beer bowling."

"That's a new one."

"There's been lots of new ones since you moved," Landry grunted, shoving Billy into the back of Chase the drummer's van. He walked around to the front seat, gesturing to it. "Hop on in, I'm taking him back to the apartment where we're crashing. Tell me where to drop you off."

Lyla took the keys from him, smiling quickly. "I had have a drink to your two and a half beers and if I remember, you're a lightweight. I'm driving." She climbed into the front seat, frowning slightly. "This is a stick."

"You can't drive a stick?"

Billy poked his head between them. "Yes she can, drove my brother's stick just fine. He went crazy, Garrity."

"You're an asshole, shut up Billy and he did not go crazy."

"He went bananas."

"You went bananas, apparently, he made something of himself," Lyla sniffed, scowling back at him. Her voice dropped, a deadly growl. "No thanks to you trying to drag him down."

What are we talking about now? I missed something, Landry thought, scratching at the back of his head. He turned around slightly, pushing his hand on Billy's face and knocking him into the back of the van with the music equipment that they probably should find a place to lock up when they weren't playing. "Go pass out."

They drove away, until Lyla shrugged. "I can sort of drive a stick," she said, grinding the gear into place as she released the clutch too fast. Landry jerked forward, rubbing his forehead where it knocked into the sun visor. "Oops."

"We might have been better off with me. Turn right up here, we're not far. It's a friend of Devin's, she's on some study abroad so we have her place for a few weeks."

"Sounds bohemian." She seemed extra excited at that prospect, Landry thought.

He smirked. "Sounds dirty and cheap. And wandering rock-folk-indie-pop-heavy-Christian-metal band."

"That's a lot of genres."

"We're a lot of things." He waited a moment, watching her as she drove away. She seemed lost. Lyla Garrity never struck him as someone who got lost. If anything, he always thought she knew her way, even when she wasn't sure of where the road would take her. He kind of admired her; people treated her bad in school and she never let it get to her. Even when he was kind of wondering what to do with himself, she was always nice to him. Not many people gave him the time of day because he wasn't in football. Not her. He smiled sideways at her. "So…any thought to if you'll go back to Texas for good?"

She gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, but lifted her shoulder slightly. "I don't know. I'll probably…semester is fourteen weeks. I'll probably end up back at Vanderbilt. I only have one more semester left to my degree, I just…need something to do with it."

"What is it?"

"Comparative Religion."

"What the hell would you do with a degree in that?"

"I don't know," she said, her voice soft. She smiled slightly. "Drop out with one more semester left." She shrugged again and leaned on the window, stopping at a red light. She glanced towards him. "I don't know if I'll end up in Dillon. I'd like to go to seminary…maybe become a minister. Like a youth minister or something. I guess I could end up back in Dillon with that, but…I don't know. We'll see."

"Would it be horrible for you?" It's pretty horrible for me. It was horrible for Matt. Would have been for Julie. Sometimes you're born in the wrong place and you have to find it. Landry was starting to wonder if Berkeley, California was that place for him. He felt the most comfortable here. It was full of people that wore cardigans. And had dropped out with only one semester left because they wanted to do something different with their life.

Lyla shrugged, her voice quiet and reflective. "I thought maybe it might. Sometimes you go on a different path. You just…I don't know. I don't know if it would be horrible. At the time…." She chuckled, stopping at another light, only this time it was green, but there was no one around. She smiled sideways. "I got an offer. An offer to stay…to live that simple Texas life and…and I said no. The person who offered knew I was going to say no but they didn't really give up…they let me go and…and I know if I go back…well…" She shrugged, going through the light, which had since turned red.

He smiled. "You went through a red light."

"Live dangerously."

Landry smiled again. He looked out the window at the bars and college stores and little coffee shops lining the street. "So it wouldn't be horrible, huh?"

"No, I don't think it would be. I just have to find if it's what I want. I don't know yet." She turned where he directed, making her way down a narrow street lined with cars in one of the off-campus housing districts. "I sometimes wonder if I'd stayed…if I hadn't gone back to school and did this a lot sooner if things would be different. If…if people would be different."

You know, I wonder that myself. He shrugged. "I sometimes thought maybe I should drive to Austin. See about a girl who dumped me on the side of the road. Until I realized that that wasn't what would have been good for me. It was forcing something that shouldn't be forced."

"Yeah, I guess that's true." She parked where he said, in one empty spot outside of the old brick building that housed the apartment they were staying. She removed the keys from the ignition, passing them to him, but made no move to get out of the van. Her gaze fixated on the front door. "You know," she murmured, narrowing her eyes slightly. "I didn't realize that I was really, really in love with someone until we ended it for good. Didn't realize that…well…well they had an impact on me and…and I actually was sitting there outside of the registrar's office and I was thinking about just going back for the final semester and then…" She tapped her fingertips to her temple, chuckling. "What would Riggins do?"

His eyes widened. "What?" he laughed.

"I seriously thought it. Just popped into my head. What would he do? He'd say fuck it."

Landry jumped slightly at the harsh language coming from Lyla Garrity's relatively perfect and quaint mouth. "Wow."

"He'd say fuck it and do what you wanted to do. That's how he lives and he's happy." She glanced at Billy, who was snoring in the back. She gestured with her thumb. "This fuckup tries to drag him down and some of the choices he made might have been because he loves his brother, but he wouldn't have to make them without Billy even being there. So I don't count those decisions. So I did what I wanted and I'm going to keep doing what I want. And it's nice to see someone else living by that standard because hell, it validates me." Lyla grinned. "So thank you Landry." She patted his forearm, squeezing lightly. "And it's been nice seeing you again. I do hope you're happy."

I don't really know what this entire conversation has been about, Landry thought. Maybe it was because he was a little buzzed. He smiled again. "It's been nice talking to you too. Glad to help."

"Good. I'll help you get him in the house and then I'll make a call."

"Who are you going to call?"

"You'll see." A moment later, after they got Billy onto the couch, Lyla removed her phone from her purse. She hit a button and leaned against the wall, calling someone. She waited a second and Landry frowned. W ho was she calling? Her voice brightened suddenly. "Hi Mindy, it's Lyla Garrity, how are you?"

Lyla talked to Mindy? How the hell did that happen? He frowned slightly; he'd have better luck if he went through Becky, which he'd been trying, but Becky still hadn't been able to convince Mindy it was better to get Billy back to help with the twins and Stevie than it was to have everyone else help her. "You talk to Mindy?" he asked, but Lyla shushed him.

"I know he's been just a man-child. He's destroying Landry's career you know, claims he's a road manager, he's just wandering around and you know…I know…yeah, I talked to him. Hmm…" Lyla held up her finger when Landry tried to interrupt again. He didn't think this would work. Lyla smiled wide. "Well you know, we love them when they do stupid things, am I right? Marriage is difficult and…I know Mindy. I know! Ugh, I know, I'm trying. Okay. That sounds like a plan…" She paused and then beamed. "Wonderful! I'll talk to you later sweetie. Bye, bye."

Sweetie!? What the hell was happening? Landry frowned as Lyla hung up. "What was that?" Have I stumbled into an alternate universe?

Lyla grinned, putting her phone back into her bag. "Mindy is sending a friend of hers who lives in San Francisco to pick Billy up tomorrow. She'll drive him to Texas and Mindy will seriously contemplate taking him back. They're also going to consider marriage counseling, but Mindy's version consists of beating his ass with a baseball bat, so I don't think it's going to work. But they'll try." She crossed her arms over her chest, smiling at his dumbfounded look. "You know who my dad is seriously considering marrying, Landry?"

Oh that's right! He laughed. "You and Mindy are trying to break up…"

"Yes," Lyla answered. She smiled. "Mindy and I are trying to break up my dad and her mom. We both know they bring out the worst in each other and we've been trying to do it for the last six months."

"How's that working for you?"

"Not good, but at least we're trying." She pulled out her phone again. "I'll call a cab to bring me back to my mom's house."

Landry waited and then walked her out to the front step to wait for the cab. He crossed his arms over his chest. "You going to be in Berkeley for long?"

"Few weeks, like I said. I have this job and it's just temporary, but…still." Lyla smiled quickly and leaned in to give him a hug as her cab pulled to the curb. "It's good seeing you. It's nice to catch up with old friends."

Yes, it's nice, he thought, giving her a tight hug. He kissed her cheek when she kissed his, just to be polite and smiled. "I hope that I helped you out with that whole…live your life the way you want thing."

Lyla grinned. "Thank you for that and hey, call me to catch up in Dillon sometime. If you go back."

I don't know if I will. I like Berkeley. I could even go back to school there, maybe get a degree in music or something. He shrugged. "Hey you know, do what you want, right?"

She stood outside of the open cab door, lifting her hand and waving. "No regrets Landry," she called, sliding into the backseat.

No regrets, he figured, wondering where he'd heard that before. He waited until her cab drove off before he turned around and went back up to the apartment. Billy was sitting up on the couch, rubbing at his head. He glanced over, bleary. "Was Lyla Garrity in here?"

"No, why?"

"I thought I heard her voice. That annoying squeaky praying voice."

Landry feigned stupidity. "Praying voice?"

"Ugh, I swear she was here. I have to get a shower or something, she always makes me feel like I've done something wrong. Still don't know what drew her to my brother. Or him to her."

"Love works in mysterious ways, speaking of which, Mindy's taking you back, or so I hear. She'll probably call you later."

"What?" Billy seemed to wake up, grabbing his phone. "Seriously?" He hit a few buttons and then held it to his ear. "Minds!? Are you taking me back!?"

Don't screw it up, Landry prayed, picking up his guitar and strummed out a few bars. He began to mumble out a song and then smiled, reaching into his pocket and sent a text to Amber. A few minutes later, she replied.

_Texas Forever sounds like a great name for a hit. Once you have it down, come back and we'll record. For real, this time, not when my uncles aren't in the studio. _

Good to know, Landry thought, continuing to work out the song.


End file.
